Two Plus Two
by Mornen
Summary: In which little Aragorn studies, Elladan reads, and Elrohir hates math.


_Estel - Aragorn_

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><p>'If two plus two makes four than what does two plus you make?' Elrohir asked Estel, leaning a little forward, his chin propped on his hand; sunlight played dapples on his face.<p>

Estel looked up from his math papers, the end of the pen stuck in his mouth. 'Is that a fair question?' he asked after a few moments of reflection.

'It most definitely is,' Elrohir answered, leaning back, an evil grin spreading over his face.

Estel looked slowly from Elrohir to Elladan who sat in a corner and calmly turned the page of the book he was reading, eyebrows raised; he offered no support.

Sighing slightly Estel scribbled down two tall, thin stick figures with identical 'o' mouths and a third little stick figure with a smile on its little round head. 'Three.'

With narrowed eyes Elrohir reached for the picture. Estel drew it back, a shy smile creeping over his face.

'Let me see,' Elrohir commanded in a voice too stern to be taken seriously, holding out a strong hand, long fingers open and waving.

Estel handed the paper over anyway, biting his lip cheekily.

'What did you do to us?' asked Elrohir, eyes wide.

Estel did not answer.

'Dearest,' Elrohir called to Elladan, 'would you come and take a look at this?'

Elladan tucked a bookmark into his father's latest volume of history and crossed the room regally to scrutinize the six year olds drawing. 'He starved us,' he concluded after a pause. 'Then stuck apples into our mouths.' He touched the littler figure. 'I think it amuses him.'

'No! No!' Estel cried, reaching up to take the paper from the tall man. 'It isn't like that at all! I was trying to answer his absurd math question.' He stuck his chin out stubbornly on 'absurd.'

'So what was the answer?' asked Elladan, handing the paper back and crouching down by his foster brother.

'Three,' he said sulkily. 'I already told you that.'

Elladan turned to his twin. 'Is that right?'

'Theoretically,' said Elrohir, assuming a grave, scholarly tone, 'math is not even possible. After all, nothing, not even you and I, my dear brother, is the same. Therefore, how can we add it together? Two of what plus two of what makes four of what? If there is no sameness then how can two be applied as a concept to…'

'Elrohir?' said Estel, looking down at is math sheets, his eyebrows scrunched. 'Are you trying to tell me that these dread studies you put it me through are _useless_?'

'Well, at the essence of the theory…'

'I can scarcely bring myself to believe this,' cried Estel. 'You have led me through studies that I despise for the past year when they are not even possible?' He gave them an indignant glare. 'I could have told you that already.'

'My dear, why do you not just answer the poor child's question?' Elladan shook his head and sank back down against the wall, legs crossed.

'But I already have,' sniffed Elrohir indignantly. 'Math, as we know and understand it, is theoretically pointless.' He caught a glimpse of Estel's excited face. 'However,' he added, raising a finger, 'that does not prevent us from perusing it with eager and noble hearts.' He gave the boy a rather superficial smile. 'Does it?'

Estel folded his arms. 'I'm going to tell my mother on you.'

'Of course, despite it's limitations of being truly nonexistent, math is very useful in the world, which could lead to questions about the true nature of our very existence.'

Estel wrinkled his nose. '_And_ your father.'

'Which might make more sense if we bring into light the superficial existence of bodies in the world. Take for example, Glorfindel, who since dying and then…_undying_…has entered into a state inconceivable by simple minds. In fact, he can avoid being touched if he wants to.'

'What?'

'Which leads to the simple question so fundamental to all life on earth: is there life on earth? Is there earth for that matter? Do we dream that we are a butterfly, or are we all just a butterfly dreaming that we are us?'

'_What!'_

Elladan shook his head with a roll of his eyes as his brother rambled on. 'Oh, don't mind him, little one. He's always hated math.'

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><p><em>Author's notes:<em>

_Poor Estel, it isn't his fault Elrohir didn't like math... Elrond's sons are too obsessed with revenge._

_The butterfly dream argument belongs to Zhuangzi, although the notion belongs to many great minds such as Plato; the math argument I read about in my Saxon book, and I cannot find out who first theorized it. All characters belong to Tolkien._

_The Glorfindel reference was from a volume of The History of Middle-earth (I forget which) where Tolkien was theorizing that a person who died would not be re-born to other parents (since different parents would give a different body), but whose body would be remade for him from the memories that his fëa retained. I found it rather creepy when he then went on to write that such a body would not be quite a real body (as we think of bodies) and the person with such a body could avoid being touched if he wanted to._

_I was not in the mood to go into some sort of angsty, dramatic story about Aragorn missing his mother and Elladan and Elrohir thinking how much he reminded them of Arathorn, so sorry for the almost too happy characters. _

_And, as always, I hope you enjoyed!_


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